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Home was not where her heart was. It was where all her pain resided now. Every memory of Doug was in San Bernadino. Now that she’d returned, even Ben’s hand on the small of her back wasn’t enough to calm her. A lump formed in her throat as she stood on the familiar steps of Doug’s parents’ house. The memories flooded back, engulfing her in a mixture of pain and nostalgia. This house was their refuge growing up. Where they would have movie marathons and practice their lines for school plays. There were no bullies here. No judgmental girls asking why she wouldn’t join the cheerleading squad. No brutes to give Doug hell for doing theater instead of football. In this house they were king and queen of the little world they built. The fort no one could penetrate. And now, the king was dead. The queen to blame.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she rang the doorbell.
When the door swung open, Doug’s mother, Rhonda, stood there, her eyes widening in disbelief. Rhonda had a warm complexion, though now it seemed paler, drained by her grief. Her posture, once upright and confident, now seemed slightly slouched, as if the burden of loss had taken a physical toll.
“Paisley?” she gasped, her voice trembling. “What are you doing here?”
Paisley fought back tears as she replied, “I flew in and came straight here. I wanted to be here for you, for Glenn, for Doug.”
Rhonda called out to her husband, Glenn, who appeared at the door, his eyes hollow and vacant. The tension in the air was palpable, and Paisley sensed it instantly. They didn’t throw their arms around her and sob out their shared pain. They didn’t part and wave her into their home. Instead they created a wall with their bodies, blocking the door and making it clear they were not about to welcome her in.
Glenn shook his head, his voice filled with bitterness. “You took him from us, Paisley. All those years he spent following you around like a lost puppy. We gave up so much time with him while he was with you.”
Paisley’s heart shattered at the vitriol of his words. These people had welcomed her into their home, had treated her like family. Now, they blamed her for Doug’s death, and the weight of their accusations crushed her. Mostly because she thought they might be right. Every moment she’d spent making cookies here on a Friday night or creating funny skits to make Rhonda and Glenn giggle in the living room meant nothing now.
Ben tried to interject, to defend Paisley. “I know losing your son must be awful but this is not Paisley’s fault. Doug was murdered by someone terrible. Paisley is heartbroken too.”
Rhonda dismissed his attempt and pulled her sweater tighter in around herself. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. You should both leave. We can’t do this right now.”
Paisley let out a sad noise before she got the words to form correctly. “The funeral. I want to help with the services. There are things I think Doug would like. I have so many pictures from when we were young. And the music. I could help with the music.”
Rhonda scoffed at her offer. “Your people have already arranged things. Thrown us money, just like you would. Now, please, we don’t want you at the funeral. It would only draw cameras and attention; we don’t need that right now. Our son died because someone wanted you dead. We’re not going to put anyone else in our family in danger. If you want to pay your respects to Doug, do it at the cemetery after we are finished.” Rhonda at least looked pained by this request, though it was of little consolation to Paisley now.
Unable to find her voice, she allowed Ben to guide her away from the doorstep. There was nothing else to be said. Glenn and Rhonda were resolute in their decision. It was written all over their faces. All Paisley could do was retreat to the car in silence. She’d thought she’d reached the rock-bottom depths of her pain yet the floor kept falling out from under her again and again. There was no end in sight to how bad this loss would feel. How long this pain would last.
As they drove away, Ben turned to her, his voice filled with empathy. “Paisley, we always think death is so unifying and brings people together around the memory of the person we lost. But when my parents died, everyone was hurting so bad, it brought out the stupidest behavior and useless arguments. People can’t think straight when—”
“It’s fine Ben. I’m okay.” She spoke through her clenched teeth, trying not to let any tears fall. She didn’t feel like she deserved the release of tears. That was a relief she hadn’t earned. Rhonda and Glenn were right, Doug was gone because of her.
“I don’t want you to think they’re right. People lash out and say things they don’t mean. It tears families apart.” Ben’s efforts were valiant but unsuccessful.
Paisley remained silent; her gaze fixed on the passing blurs of light out the window. Doug’s parents weren’t out of line. The reality of death had ripped through their lives, leaving destruction in its wake. There had to be someone to push a sliver of that blame and pain onto and if it brought them even a little bit of relief she would endure it for them.
Finally, she mustered the strength to speak, her voice barely a whisper. “There’s a florist shop by the high school. I want to order something for Doug’s grave. And when everyone else is gone, I’ll go to the cemetery and leave the flowers for him. I’m going to respect their wishes. It’s the least I can do.”
CHAPTER15
PAISLEY
The florist shop was just how she remembered it from when she used to stop in after school from time to time to get her mother a few fragrant blooms. The same place she’d bought her flowers and Doug’s matching boutonnière for prom. It was the only shop close by, and they had special memories there. But there really wasn’t a corner of this town that didn’t hold some kind of memory of their time together.
Ben and Paisley quietly perused the colorful arrangements, their voices hushed as they contemplated the selection. Nothing seemed quite right for Doug’s funeral. Mostly because Doug shouldn’t be having a funeral.
Paisley delicately touched a cluster of white lilies. “Lilies are good, right?” she murmured, her voice filled with uncertainty. She didn’t know what funeral flowers were. When someone in her family died, her parents knew what to do. They knew who to call and what to order. There was a generational component to handling death, and she felt entirely too young to know the rules.
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know a lot about flowers. I can call my sister. She knows this stuff. Junie always handles things like that. I didn’t realize how much of my parents’ funerals she must have had to take care of. It wasn’t really fair how we expected her to figure it out. But somehow, she did.”
Paisley shook her head. “I’ll keep looking. I guess we need to grow up and figure some of this stuff out too. It won’t be the last time we have to say goodbye to someone we love and know how to honor them.”
As they continued their search, an unsettlingly happy voice called out her name. “Paisley? Is that really you?”
She turned to see two women from her high school days approaching. Gail and Mary were bouncing with nervous energy as they approached. They looked about the same as they did in school though their haircuts were tamer and a bit shorter than Paisley remembered. What hadn’t changed was how much jewelry they wore, flashy and meant to catch the eye. They were the popular girls who always needled Paisley, trying to figure out why she didn’t use her looks to her advantage. Why she didn’t get her hair highlighted and wear low cut shirts that were all the rage.
“Hey... yeah, it’s me. Gail and Mary, how are you?” She sputtered out the words nervously as she would have in the hallway in front of their sixth period science class.
The women exchanged glances before one of them spoke in a giddy kind of way. “I can’t believe you’re back in town. We’re big fans.”
“Oh, well I came back for...”
